


A Timely Breakfast

by NotAnotherCursedFic



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Breakfast is served, Eventual Smut, Eventual Twelfth Doctor/Missy, F/M, Twelfth Doctor Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23718202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAnotherCursedFic/pseuds/NotAnotherCursedFic
Summary: The Twelfth Doctor is in trouble, and only his arch-nemesis Missy can lend a hand. Will breakfast be served for these two Gallifreyans?
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Missy
Kudos: 5





	A Timely Breakfast

A Timely Breakfast

The TARDIS whirred to life as the Twelfth Doctor limped in, hands clutching his head as he moaned softly in pain. Staggering towards a nearby chair, he half sat, half collapsed in it, bending down to put his now-throbbing head in his hands. The floor beneath him spun slightly, and he groaned louder as he pulled his sonic out from his coat pocket. Aiming it at himself with his trembling left hand while the other steadied his body against a nearby panel, he closed his eyes and tried the deep breathing exercises Clara taught him. As his screwdriver's scan was nearing completion, he cursed his luck for not having the bright eyed human companion around. 

"She would have been able to help", he muttered to himself as the sonic hummed to life, its scan complete. As it projected a screen from its tip detailing the effects of the ray the Time Lord had been struck with moments before he managed to escape in the TARDIS, he opened his eyes to read what the projection said.

Almost immediately, he regretted his earlier pronouncement that Clara would be of use here. Dropping the sonic, he moved his hands behind his head in a gesture of futility, suddenly bringing them down again to slam hard on the control panel.

WHAM. The TARDIS protested with a series of frenzied bleeps and clicks, then a panel retracted and what seemed like a hollow cylinder, padded both inside and outisde extended towards the Doctor. The whirr of the TARDIS became less frenzied and more hopeful, then was silenced as the Doctor turned his head from the instrument.

"No. Not that. Anything but that-" he spat out, his voice almost deepening into a growl, but another voice cut him off before he could finish his sentence. This voice was feminine, but it wasn't his human companion. 

It wasn't even human.

"Anything, you say?" A younger, human-looking woman with sleek, black hair tied up in a messy bun approached the now furious Doctor, her features catlike, a smirk dancing around her lips and lighting a fire in her eyes. A fire the Twelfth Doctor knew only could come from one being in all of time and space.

"Missy." It wasn't a question. The Gallifreyan struggled to rise to his feet, but the other one all but pounced toward him, her movements fluid and near superhuman. She pushed him back in his chair, her smirk now a pitying smile as she regarded her nemesis, now in such a forlorn state.

"We've got ourselves in quite a pickle now, have we?" Her voice was like honey laced in the most potent arsenic, the way her voice betrayed no ill intent to anyone but those who knew her the most, either her closest friends-

Or in this case, mortal enemies. The Doctor glared at Missy as she pinned him down in the chair with her umbrella, while the other hand typed a series of commands into the TARDIS's mainframe via the same panel the instrument had come out of.

Suddenly, a larger panel in the sides of the TARDIS opened like a hatch, revealing a simple bed with almost spartan furnishings. Missy raised an eyebrow in surprise, then stared pityingly at the Doctor.

"No, no, no, I'm not doing that, not with-" The rest of the Doctor's protests were drowned out as Missy swept an arm under him and hauled him in a fireman's lift towards the bed, before unceremoniously dumping him on it, then pinning him down with her umbrella again. She betrayed no sign of exhaustion or break in composure at her sudden exertion, and merely shifted her gaze slightly downward, towards the Doctor's black trousers. 

The Doctor continued to stare defiantly at the Gallifreyan he regarded as his greatest enemy, understanding perfectly what Missy intended to do. "I won't let you- you, of all people to manhandle-"

"Manhandle what?" Missy cut through the Doctor's statement, though her tone was no longer mocking. It was cold, accusing, as if she dared him to finish his statement. "You really think so lowly of me now, do you? And I thought we were fr-"

"You sent them after me, didn't you? The Libidian Ray was your doing," he snarled. "I really did think we were starting to understand each other, then you go and do this to me! How else was I supposed to react?" 

Missy stopped mid-word, to shocked to react. When she next spoke, it was soft, almost pleading.

"I didn't sent the Libidians after you." The Doctor's eyebrows flew up, his face now an expression of surprise. "In fact, if I were to quote-unquote 'send' anyone after you, the Libidians would be the last."

The Doctor relaxed, and he allowed Missy to release the umbrella and put it aside while he continued to lie on the bed, a myriad thoughts rushing through his head. However, a furious sensation sent him curling up in a foetal position, hands clutching his head again as it throbbed with even more pain than before.

Missy observed him with sadness in her eyes, a rare sight for the other Gallifreyan if he could have seen it at the moment. She knelt on the bed as she ran a hand through the Doctor's curled hair, muttering a Gallifreyan phrase meant to convey calm, as the Doctor started to relax and the pain dulled into a mild ache in his temples.

"I was hit by the same ray, many decades ago." The Doctor gasped in surprise as Missy spoke. "With no one around to relieve the- the pain, I had to take care of it myself. You should know what that would have been like."

"The- the other method?" There was genuine pity and sadness in Twelve's eyes, as they met Missy's. Something within her broke, and her guarded, snarky exterior crumbled as she embraced the Doctor in a hug, both of them finding unexpected comfort in each other. 

As they broke apart, Missy sat up straight on the bed, her smirk returning, the earlier fire in her eyes now mixed with desire. "If we were to take care of this problem the more... pleasurable way, would you-"

The Doctor's eyes flashed with the same fire, meeting her gaze. "Yes."

Making an animalistic growl in the back of her throat, Missy undid the belt holding the Doctor's pants up, then almost savagely ripped both his pants and undergarments down. Meanwhile, the Doctor was himself divesting himself of his coat and shirt. 

Missy took in the sight as the Doctor's arousal made itself known, her own growing deep within her as she saw a Gallifreyan organ she had not seen in many, many centuries. Glistening with oil and saturated fats, it was crisp around the edges and yet thick with layers, pink in the middle and a satisfying golden brown on the topmost layer.

Bacon. The Earth version was a food, made with an animal they called a pig and fried before it resembled the Gallifreyan genitals, but this was the original. The Doctor groaned as Missy stroked the length of his bacon, the oils providing much needed lubrication as the thick, long piece twitched under her ministrations. 

The Doctor growled and reached up with his arms to do to Missy's clothes what she had previously done to his pants. She willingly submitted, while planting a kiss on her enemy-now-turned-lover's forehead, as the Doctor finished stripping her of her undergarments, revealing the body that previously hid in the Victorian garb. His gaze moved downwards, and he felt his bacon twitch again at the sight.

Where on a human body there would have been human female genitals, were the sides of two beautifully plump Portabello mushrooms, or at least the humans would have called them so. For the Gallifreyans, the Doctor and Missy were both at the height of their sexual peak, and their respective organs reflected that peak well. 

Missy groaned as the Doctor tenderly stroked the two mushrooms, then moved his hand up to brush against a baked bean sat astride the two mushroom lips, a deep red glow emanating from the singular bean. As his brushes became more insistent, Missy moaned, a sound so deep and throaty even the Doctor was surprised. As she recovered slightly, her hands went to work on the Doctor's bacon, one feeling out the crisp edges, the other smothering the oil around evenly.

Finally, the two could take it no longer, and the Doctor lay back onto the bed, while Missy guided the erect piece of bacon towards the centre where the two mushrooms met. As the bacon penetrated the mushrooms, both of them cried out in pleasure, while the Doctor felt the pain in his head relieved somewhat.

The two began a steady rhythm, going back and forth as the bacon moved in between the mushrooms and the oil from the bacon mingled with the mushroomy juices. The Doctor rubbed the baked bean in ever-increasing speeds as both the Gallifreyans felt a rush of emotions and pleasures tear through every nerve in their being. As their rhythms quickened, the Doctor groaned, his eyes closed and head lolling backwards in ecstasy.

"I'm-" he began, Missy interrupting with a "same" before their eyes opened and the locked gazes for what felt like an eternity.

Then, the Doctor felt the pain in his head completely go away as the bacon deep between the two mushrooms issued forth a thick stream of gravy, and both of them cried out, the mushrooms pulsating along with the bacon.

The effects of the ray were now gone, and for the two Gallifreyans, in their language at least...

Breakfast was served.

Fin


End file.
